Dreams of the Departed
by Ari Eli
Summary: SEQUEL TO DON'T STEAL MY SUNGLASSES, AURIKKU. [Currently discontinued/in an infinite hiatus. I may return to it someday with a total rewrite, but right now I don't see that happening. Sorry!] In the quest to find an explanation behind the events of two years' past, Auron discovers that Spira has been threatened before, with something much worse than Sin.
1. Prologue: In Any World

The new version of the sequel is FINALLY here. I've been pretty unproductive, but I think I've got my writing mojo back. I promise that this version will be less batshit-crazy confusing than the other one, and ten times better than what the previous version was going to be.

So, enjoy!

* * *

In any world, things never move slowly unless you stop and examine every single thing that there is to understand. Even then, time is passing rapidly behind you, and when you look away, you're inevitably going to catch up to it. There's danger around every corner, but you have to take your leaps if you want to get anywhere far.

…Which said nothing about Spira's state of mind at present. It had been two years since the triumph over Sin, Spira's last disaster. Fiends remained, but really, no eminent danger was present on the horizon, and there was no giant enemy to take up arms against anymore. So people relaxed, and rebuilt, and no longer feared or suffered.

On the small island of Besaid, the place that had barely changed, something had violently dispelled the euphoria. Across the island people could hear the hoarse screams of a man in terrible pain, and the mutters of his doctor, who begged him to try to be still while pleading her four struggling companions to hold him down. Occasionally a flailing arm or a writhing leg would kick someone in the stomach or punch a jaw, and fling blood everywhere, but they persevered.

No one dared enter the yellow tent with the intention to observe—none but a single brave girl, who fastened herself to the corner of the room, and clenched her hands in a ball atop her breast while she shuddered. She witnessed everything: the inflamed wounds in the shapes of odd symbols splayed across his body; the word "PENANCE" carved into his back; the nervous attempts of her cousin to close up the gashes with magic. But the more she tried to heal, the more the cuts seemed to resist. They bled more, and deepened, and hissed at her like frightened animals as they tore away from the healing touch.

Overwhelmed by the pain, and exhausted from expressing it, the patient abruptly fell silent, and his limbs went limp. He had fainted.

The doctor retreated to the adjacent cot and roughly took a seat, and her assistants did the same after tenderly putting his arms and legs back on the stained sheets. The wallflower slid her hair behind her ear, and whispered, "Yuna?"

The High Summoner stared down at her own blood-coated hands and took a few shaky breaths. "I don't know."

The short-lived peace that had been delivered by summoner and guardians was over; the next disaster had arrived.

* * *

_Two days previously_

* * *

The lukewarm climate of Ella's side of the Farplane assumed an unusual chill on the morning of their departure. A soft breeze drifted from the center of the land of the dead, like the ripples in calm water after a disturbance, and spread until all dead felt it pass. For Elayne, who stood on the edge of the personal world that death had granted her and her consensual mate, the caresses of the wind were ominous and rough, as though pushing against her path.

Edward emerged—from nowhere—and took his place at Elayne's side. His red hair faded to a pale hue of anticipation. For a few precious moments, they were silent; then, he murmured something quiet and unimportant, and the breeze snatched it up and gently whisked it away.

"You ever get the feeling," he said soon after, "that something bad is about to happen?"

Suddenly, being close became both unutterably important and exceedingly inappropriate. All she could do was touch the back of her head to Edward's shoulder. "Constantly."

One of them shuddered, and whispered, "No matter what happens, I love you," and the other replied, "And I love you." They glanced at one another, but found a kiss or some other sort of physical demonstration of affection unnecessary.

After another several quiet moments, Ella stepped away and into focus. "Reina's supposed to be meeting us at the waterfall soon. We've got to go."

Edward gave her a quick nod, and offered his hand for her to join; together, they stepped into a void of darkness. The black abyss appeared before them, and their home on the Farplane melted away as they issued forth. Finally, they were surrounded by the pressing dark, feeling more isolated than the ancient prisoners of Via Purifico, who had rotted bending over, hanging above the tepid water in cages that were both too short and too small for them.

The black canvas melted away just as home had. Their feet touched down to a rocky surface, and the visitor's platform of the Farplane was gloriously revealed with a rush of watery sounds from leagues below, while the pyreflies' chorus ascended to a volume just above that of the crashing falls.

About a month before, the Guado cut off access to the Farplane because of something that they sensed within, an "instability". So closely were they connected with the realm between the living and the dead that the abrupt change in atmosphere left their kind startled and nearly paranoid to the point of closing off Guadosalam altogether. The event sent Spira into a calm uproar. It put everyone on high alert.

Choked with fear, the Guado were blind to the events that were unfolding within the Farplane, and unaware that the instabilities that they sensed were the results of one madman who was close to reaching his first crescendo.

Ender's home, a white old fashioned mansion that one might have seen sitting atop a hill in a Bevelle of calmer times, was suspended in the air high above the lake, looming over the portal with purpose while it blocked out all view of the blue and black moon. That was their destination—today was the day that they would get Auron back.

An uneasy Edward glanced around the platform for Ella, whose eyes were locked on the "haunted house." His heart sank for the both of them.

"Where is Reina?"

Far away, through the darkest depths of the Farplane, through the single long hall that the couple had explored once, without purpose, two years ago, and many times before—through the single circular room that lay at its end, rang the confident and clear notes of a piano. Using informal lessons that a steady hand had taught her long ago, the white-haired woman recited the long and arduous melody scribbled along the dimly lit walls with a dusty instrument.

Before her sat not only a thick wall of stone, but another piano and another pianist in another world, who could no longer touch what he had so long contented himself to play. The voice that drifted from one world to the next, to his ears, moved him to paralysis and tears. With his hands trembling over the ivory keys, Mazrim reveled in that, after so long—after ages—he had been heard. He would be released.

* * *

Now on to chapter one. Let's see if my mojo can handle it. In the meantime, click the review button and scold me for being so damn dead for the past forever. I love all of you guys and your patience!

-Ari


	2. Chapter 1: Gemstones

Wow, it's been a while. But I think I finally have my mojo back. For real this time.

Seriously. I think. ANYWAY the first chapter is finally here; I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Today was incredibly special.

After almost a year of three-word conversations broken by business, practice, or preoccupation, the group—except Kimahri, since he was busy in Gagazet—had finally agreed to clear their schedules for the afternoon to spend some time together. Rikku had been begging and pleading for months, and now it was finally happening, and everyone was in the _same place_ at the _same time_. It was almost like a dream come true.

Her skin tingled as if tickled by feathers while she danced out of her room and twirled across the hall, into Tidus and Yuna's room. She expected to see the warm glow of her cousin's face waiting for her, but instead her jubilee came to an abrupt halt when the sight of a sleeping and obnoxiously snoring Tidus caught her eye. With a few quick strides she crossed the room and smacked him out of his dreams. He jerked forward and blinked wildly, startled.

"Hey! Don't you have a game today?" she scolded.

"Ah! Uhh…" The blitzball player glanced around nervously, trying to find an excuse for his condition. "Yeah! I, uh…I was just getting a little shut-eye before we start."

"I went by the sphere just now, and Wakka's already started warm-ups." Tidus leapt from his bed at the news while she clapped him on the shoulder, hissing, "Get up, get up, get up! You have to do good today so we can have fun after the game. GO!" and she gave him a good shove in the direction of the door. He stumbled into the hallway.

Just then she heard grunts and the thud of colliding bodies, and seconds later Yuna half-walked half-tripped into the room just as Tidus had left, with such a startled look on her face that Rikku couldn't help but double over laughing. When the High Summoner gained her bearings, she glared with comic anger at her cousin and had a seat on the bed.

"A little bird told me that we're doing something fun later," she said with a raised eyebrow and a grin. "All of us. What've you got planned?"

Rikku posed with a mischievous wink. "You'll see." But Rikku was the type of girl who couldn't keep a secret when she was excited, so she got close and lowered her voice to gossip-level. "You know that place that opened up a little into the Highroad?" Yuna nodded. "I was thinking we could go there and then go back to Besaid for a bit. Awesome? Of course it is!"

"I've been meaning to go to that restaurant," Yuna said, then added almost absentmindedly, "I haven't seen home in so long."

"So it'll be good for us to go!" Rikku plopped down on the bed beside her. "You need some R and R anyways. You have too much on your plate as it is! Time for the world to give _you_ a chance to breathe, y'know?"

"I suppose." Yuna stared thoughtfully into her own little world for a few moments while Rikku got increasingly fidgety.

"So, where were you? I looked all over, but I couldn't find you anywhere. Then I found Tidus being all lazy and stuff."

Yuna blinked. "I was out at the docks, listening to the wind."

"Huh?" Uh oh. Maybe Yunie was starting to snap under all the stress.

For a moment she looked frustrated. "Well, ever since Guadosalam closed its doors to the world, I've been getting these odd…_vibes_. Like the kind I used to have right when I was about to perform a sending, or call one of the aeons. But I shouldn't be feeling those, since the fayth woke…up." She didn't realize what she was saying before it was said. Rikku made her face as smooth as possible. She'd been practicing that a lot. "Ah…Anyway, sometimes I can hear singing in the wind, but it's not a melody. Just singing, and it's so soft that I can barely hear it sometimes."

She found it hard to picture such a sound, but she nodded her head in sympathy anyway. "Well, today's the day where you need to stop listening to the wind and start letting it mess up your hair. Dig?"

Yuna's smile made a dashing recovery. "Yeah."

Grabbing her cousin's arm, Rikku leapt from the bed and dragged her along. "C'mon! We have a game to watch."

* * *

Auron adjusted his coat uncomfortably and gingerly stepped over a shallow black puddle in the dented concrete of the street. With every crumbling building he passed, he grew more and more uneasy, worried that one of them would come crumbling down on top of him in a rain of metal and rust just when he thought he was safe.

The sky, an impossible combination of reds and yellows and whites—the colors of an infected wound—seemed to press down aggressively with hot and humid air on the abandoned city. He only assumed that he was alone; he had not entered any of the towering structures of technological triumph. He dared not enter for the same reason that he walked quickly across each bridge and through each building-packed street. There was no sun in the sky, but it was uncomfortably bright, like a midday morning filled with clouds that the sun couldn't filter through and instead illuminated. Despite the rust and ruin on the metal structures, they glistened in the infectious light. As for Auron—well, he avoided looking up.

His sense of direction was an eccentric friend, and had been ever since he entered the dream. At first, he was certain that he was wandering aimlessly while looking for a plausible destination, but then he realized that his feet carried him in purposeful circles. Each time he passed a familiar landmark he noticed something new; each time he left it, his feet cast his observations aside and pressed on. He once tried to turn away from the path that his senses had decided on. That resulted in several confusing turns that spit him up on the original road; he then learned to listen, and look, and let his feet, instead of his head, take care of the navigation.

Still, it felt odd to be lost. He couldn't help but suspect that this city lost in twilight was a small replication of something larger—that he knew this place, and had known it very well before.

After rounding a corner, Auron's eyes drifted down a long singular highway that seemed to be connected to a palace-like structure. It was no different from the other buildings that he had seen, except that it was larger and whole, and it called to him. He touched the lids of his right eye, as if the scar that lingered but no longer hindered had the answer.

He trudged along the right side of the massive bridge. His head was clogged and fuzzy, as if he'd just gotten over some sort of head cold, and his intelligent thoughts were delayed; the notion to look over the edge of the bridge occurred to him when he was almost halfway across. He slowed and approached the decaying rail.

When he touched it, the metal parted before his fingers as if he had touched fabric. The rail groaned and fell away from the long strip; Auron peered over the rim, watching it fall into the black, bubbling water below.

"You never did know your own strength," said a quicksilver voice to his left. He straightened and turned immediately to face his company, and found himself staring into yellow irises captured by light blue, into the blacker-than-ash-skinned face framed by golden hair.

He had not seen Fay's child form for two years. She appeared now to be a grown woman that towered over Auron by at least a head or two. Her skin was still as black as the night, with an ageless quality to it that made him uneasy, and her hair just as golden as her eyes, which pierced confidence with spears of abnormality.

"Auron," she said slowly, "Where is the place that you call home?"

"I'm from Bevelle," he answered simply.

"Is that your home? Were you born there?"

He stuttered the beginning of an answer to both questions, but a sudden uncertainty overwhelmed him, and he fell silent.

Fay touched his shoulder with a slender hand. "The next time you dream," she said, "come to this place quickly. Run to me."

She began to back away from him as if repulsed. Auron stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand, then vanished.

For the next few minutes Auron stared off in every direction, following the reddish clouds with his eyes, studying the broken buildings and the tainted air. Then he took one step in the other direction, and another, muttering, "He never lets me dream. There will not be a next time." He paced slowly, as if alone in a funeral procession with no destination in mind, and stretched his hands out in front of him.

He woke in this position but rotated ninety degrees, lying on his back with his arms up and beckoning to the ceiling of his cell. With hazy eyes he glanced at the red bars that lined the prison; that they were still steady and strong was affirmed.

Auron curled inward and attempted to surround himself again in the womb that was sleep.

* * *

"Oh man, oh man!—this is good."

Tidus scarfed down leg after leg of cooked chocobo meat without pause; sometimes he and Wakka dared to pluck a good or two from their neighbors' plates if the waitress didn't return quickly enough with more. The both of them were usually pigs after a good win; gluttons after a loss. And it was a _spectacle_. Rikku grimaced at them whenever she looked up from her meal.

The voracious appetite of the party made for little conversation between mouthfuls, which was a surprise in regards to Tidus and Wakka, who followed the pattern of gulp, gloat, giggle, gulp, gloat, giggle, choke, gulp. Maybe they were so certain that their performance had been so astonishing that there was no need to highlight it.

…Pffftt. The bragging would come later. There was no doubt about it.

Step one to achieving the super fantastic day: win today's match…_check_! Well, Rikku hadn't really done anything to help win the game except wake Tidus up. But, hey, a goal's a goal.

Step two: amazing dinnerlunch…_check_! Bellies full and happy. No one can have fun on an empty stomach, right?

Step three: sunset on Besaid…_I'm on it_! Now she only had to think of a way to scare Brother into flying fast enough to get to the island in time. Her perfect imitation of their dad would do just fine.

* * *

He lay in the underbrush of a humid forest. The thick foliage trapped moisture in its place and protected the hungry roots from the sun, though a few rays still beamed down upon him. The particles glowed and floated around him, settled on his skin. A massive, invisible weight pressed down on him. He could barely breathe.

Auron blinked. Actually, he opened his eyes. The tree trunks melted into the shapes of bars, and his mind reinvented the world around him. At first, he couldn't see properly down the white aisle beyond his cage, but he heard snarls of the feral creatures near the entrance and gurgling of sufferers beyond. Ender? Not unless he had grown six legs again. There were others. Coming his way.

He quickly sat up and looked, listened, for the newcomers. Four people, and Auron couldn't recognize the way they walked. But where were they? Their footsteps sounded near enough to place them halfway across the room, but Auron couldn't see a single foot to match. Ah—Ender had done this trick before. He brought along illusions of Auron's friends and used them to taunt and torture him.

Shivering, Auron pulled himself into the corner of his cage and turned his back toward the bars. Stared at the wall. Sighed. Squeezed his eyes shut. The repetitive _click-clack_ of polished boots quickened. Two of them had broken into a brisk walk, and one had not changed their stride. The fourth, however, leapt to a sprint.

Suddenly, hands gripped the bars of his cage so powerfully that the wall shuddered and metal clanged, startling him. A woman's voice cried out in full, "_Auron!_"

Auron was so astonished that he jumped and his heart skipped several beats, then resumed with a pathetic pitter-patter rhythm inside him. He jerked around to stare at a woman that he had never seen before. Her russet eyes were glazed with worry and stress disheveled her dark hair.

Behind her stood a tall man with orange curls, and some few feet past him were two people; another woman, with white shoulder-length hair and skin tight clothing to match; and another man, with unkempt grey-peppered black hair and shabby attire that might have been regal, once upon a time. His face was dirty and unshaven, and as Auron looked on him, the unsettled minimal grin he wore never shifted in feeling or form.

Finished with his analysis, Auron put his cheek against the cool marble of the wall he leaned on, and waited. "Do it, or go away," he growled.

"Do what?" asked the frantic girl who had called his name. He heard her moving, and assumed that she was looking to the other illusions for answers. When he glanced their way, the man in tattered clothes was shrugging.

"I think," he said with a voice that rumbled with command, "he means that if we're not here to attack him—which he believes we are—we should leave."

"Why would we attack him?" muttered the girl, who turned back to Auron with her hands still on the bars of the prison. "Auron, do you know who I am? I'm Ella, your sister!"

"It matters not if you are my sister, my mother, my lover, or my antimatter; you're not real. Swords, fists, and magic are all weapons that can end this simulation. Use them to return me to reality." Auron turned so that his right eye was hidden. "I'd rather suffer in reality than in my dreams."

"Simulation?" Ella murmured. "This is real, Auron. We've come to help you get out of this place. Away from Ender."

"Of course."

When she made a sound, Auron continued. "You'll help me escape and return to Spira. I'll live there just long enough to start believing that I really have left you behind, and the moment I let my guard down, you'll snap me back to reality. Ender, I know all your tricks."

"No! This is real! We're not figments of your imagination or Ender's."

"Hmph."

"He'll never believe you," said the woman in white. "He's become so accustomed to playing Ender's games that he can no longer see what's right in front of him."

Her words dripped with pity. "Perhaps we would only break him further by taking him away from this place." The icy hand of anger reached into Auron's chest and stroked his heart.

"Broken or not, he's still a rational man," said the man in tatters as he approached the cage, and gingerly touched one of the rods that held Auron prisoner. "We need him out, so he can witness the truth and put a stop to what Ender's started. He can't do that here. Ella?"

With a swift jerk of her arms, Ella demonstrated a superfluous amount of strength and yanked the two bars that she held straight out of the wall. Marble fragments rained down, and she tossed the rods aside and brushed herself off as they clattered to the floor.

Auron gazed at the gap between the bars, working his jaw. "You're going to force me to go with you."

The man put his hands on his hips and, mockingly, said, "Of course."

Auron rose to his feet with a grimace and reluctantly stepped forward. Those little actions seemed to bring his "saviors" great satisfaction; the woman in white sported a red-lipped smile, and Ella and the orange-haired boy exchanged pleased glances. "I thought it would be harder to breach than that," Ella commented. "I thought that Ender might have placed wards around the cell or—"

She sucked in a loud hiss and suddenly everyone was moving; boots and metal tread screeched on the marble floor, and grunts of impact sounded among them. A black shape streaked from one opponent to the next, lashing out soundlessly, and every blow sent its victims staggering or tumbling back. It flung the woman in white against the wall of the row of cages and dealt several cracking blows to the boy with orange hair, who rolled to a stop halfway towards the door. Ella roared and twisted her body when she became the target, thrusting her fists into the air in front of her at odd angles, and the impact was a clap of thunder. The shape slipped out of its blurry illusion and leaped back, landing gracefully before them.

Auron only realized that he had moved out of the cage when a thick arm barred his way. Then his vision began to focus on the standstill, and he looked around his protector—the oddly clothed man—to witness Ender standing not steps away.

Though his eyes were concealed by his hood, Auron felt the monster's attention travel from him, to the woman in white, to the man. When it stopped there, his lips curled into a sadistic smile.

"It's been a long time, Mazrim!" he crowed merrily.

Without missing a beat Mazrim threw a retort: "Just long enough for you to gather up enough strength to start trouble."

"And Reina. You changed the world, my dear. I never thought I'd see _you_ again."

The white haired woman let out an injured sigh.

"Well," he continued after a brief interval, "it's been fun _not_ catching up on old times, but I have a quarrel with that man behind you, there." He leaned forward and pointed with an upturned finger at Auron, who averted his eyes, and curled his shivering hands into cold fists to slow the pace of fear flowing through his veins. Mazrim still stood with his arm extended in front of the guardian, but upon mention of a "quarrel," he stiffened and stepped in front of him, further separating him from Ender. Ella also shifted, but at a signal from Mazrim she remained still.

"I think two years of torture is quite enough revenge to settle that quarrel," Mazrim said.

Then, an odd look spread across his face, followed by a friendly grin, and he stared with comic dismay at Ender. "It's my turn to take care of the child, darling, dearest."

Ender dramatically swept one hand across his forehead. "Oh!" he groaned, "It's been so hard since we split up! But the Little One and I have been doing all right. He's got a healthy and stable environment to live in, so there's no need for us to change things now." He gestured delicately to Auron. "Go to your room, sweetums. Mommy'll be in in just a moment to tuck you in."

Accustomed to such weirdness, Auron remained glaring, motionless and silent, waiting for progression. He looked on; Reina stood with her arms crossed in an irritated bundle. As if she was the sister watching her two younger brothers fight. "You can't make it happen, Ender." The two turned and looked at her, shedding their playful façade. "No matter what, the dead and the living cannot coexist completely. To force them together is to destroy both."

"And that's how I'll win the war!" Ender rejoined.

Mazrim exhaled and turned around, extending a hand toward Auron. "We're done here," he announced. "Come."

Ender shifted into a hasty stride, shaking his finger. "Now, just one se—!"

"I do hope you know how to dance." Mazrim stared intensely into Auron's eyes.

"What—" Just on the edge of his vision, he saw Ender leap straight at him.

Time slowed to a crawl. With the spread of his arms Auron burst into a thousand glittering pieces, and his two-thousand eyes watched Ender plunge straight through the mist of his soul, pursued by Mazrim. Auron, a moaning mass of pyreflies, glided away from the battle. With a flick of his will Auron brought himself together again and reformed as a solid, a human, near the door. Without thinking, he flung himself through it, leaving Ella, Reina, and Mazrim behind.

Darkness and a narrow ledge jutting straight over an abyss waited for him. The sudden clip forced Auron to skid to a stop just before he reached the edge; he muttered a curse. Usually (meaning five simulations out of ten) this room was a long white hallway that eventually emerged at the atrium after jumping several voids and steep climbs. Auron's eyes traveled into the black and saw exactly that, nothing more. There was nowhere to go.

With another foul snarl he turned and dashed back into Ender's zoo.

* * *

In the Twilight City, golden flecks of dust and rusty debris floated about and glittered in the sunlight everywhere there was air to breathe; the snow of industry's ruin fell upon the dull surfaces of structures that had once been towering and extravagant, and now were only crumbling memories of a city long destroyed. But everything shone; even the bubbling black water that ran over some of the fallen bridges and streets was made to glimmer like a sea of ink. It ran off the edges of the floating island into the cloudy void below. The world came to an end at the edge of the City; beyond its borders was a past that had gone on into the living future, and no longer belonged.

At its center loomed a palace of metal and glass and other things that everything in the City had once been made out of, though one would not see a palace at first glance: only a vast pile of collapsed rooms and lobbies, of meeting circles and dining halls. In fact, the palace at the heart of the city seemed to be the most dilapidated structure of all. Only one piece of it still stood true, though decayed as it was, and this piece was the spine. A tall tower rose above the wreckage, surveying it sadly.

In a room somewhere near its peak, lit dimly by only the sick glow of the sun and the red and orange clouds, Fay stared into a dark cup of golden liquid that she had set on a hollow desk crafted from the crystals inside Macalanian trees and filled with the water used to make spheres. Through the shining surface of the liquid in the wide glass she could see Auron as he scrambled out of Ender's cage room and into another room with an abyss and no way to run except back. As soon as he darted through the door again, a tiny vibration stirred the surface for a moment and obscured Fay's view.

Inside, she could see Ella and Mazrim fighting Ender in tandem. Reina tended to Edward, who lay beaten and bloodied on the white marble floor, away from the battle. Auron ignored them and charged straight at the fray near his cage, just as Mazrim had entered a waltz of blows and kicks and arcs of fire with the sickened man. The two were matched evenly, stroke to stroke, step to step, snip to snap, until Auron approached them at a dead run, taking both by surprise as he tackled Ender to the floor and silenced him with a blow from his bare fist. He raised his arm for another strike, but Ender was gone.

Fay used this split second moment to puncture the still liquid with her long nail, and when the ripples cleared, Ella, Reina, and Edward had vanished.

At the end of that split second Ender and Mazrim appeared in the air with forearms locked and teeth bared, their movements too quick to follow frame-by-frame. Fay never blinked; Ender lashed out with his fist, driving it straight into Mazrim's stomach—straight through, because his stomach had become pyreflies—and barely had time to watch him reform right in front of his eyes before Mazrim countered. Chin reddened by spit-up blood, Ender plummeted to the floor and met it headfirst. Fay heard bones snap, and he lay limp.

"No more," she whispered just as Mazrim said, "He'll only be down for a moment. We have to leave, now."

"There's no way out." Auron glanced around. "The usual way isn't there. As far as I know, that's the only way."

"Not anymore," Fay declared, and dipped one of her long fingers into the liquid, drawing a single circle.

* * *

Rikku hadn't seen Besaid in forever and three days. She remembered being there with the whole gang two years ago—of course she did!—when the old lady gave Yuna the huge crown, and they had a little time to relax in the sun. They were coming back for that last thing again, so they could have their perfect beachside sunset end to the pretty darn good day.

As soon as they stepped off the docks and Brother guided the airship out of sight, Rikku wanted to fling off her shoes and wiggle her toes around in the sand like she used to. She loved the feeling of warm sand around her ankles, especially if that came with comforting sea breezes. Plus, it was practically _blasphemy_ not to take your shoes off on the beach. So she did, with a strong kick to the air.

It's pretty blasphemous to hit your friend in the face with a kicked-off shoe, though. Oh, jeez. Tidus yelped and stumbled a few feet back, landing bottom-first on the sand. "Owwwwww…"

Rikku scoffed. "You should get out of my shoe's way, stupid!"

"Your shoe's _way_?" Tidus squealed. His voice always got really high when he was angry. "You're the one who—"

But she had already kicked off her other shoe and started running toward the stout waves.

After some friendly but rather spirited splashing around (Lulu cheated—she had water magic to drench everybody with whenever she wanted. No wonder Wakka was always in line when she was in earshot!) the group sat on the sand to dry off as the sun slid closer to its dramatic kiss with the horizon.

"Just like old times, huh?" Wakka remarked.

Lulu stole Yuna from Tidus by draping her arm around the High Summoner's shoulder and drawing her close with a calm smile. "I remember when you were just a little girl," she said in that raspy yet soothing voice of hers. "Kimahri was so overprotective of you for the first couple of years that he wouldn't let anyone near. Then, when you fell and scraped your knee on the temple steps, I bandaged you up, and Kimahri lost a lot of stress that day."

Without his girl to cuddle with, Tidus groaned and flopped back onto the sand. "Too bad he's up on Mt. Gagazet. Then it really would be like old times."

Rikku winced. "Except…"

A solemn silence fell over the group while they watched the waves roll weakly across the shore and then withdraw in flowing folds. Rikku held her breath. Tears were nearer than normal, and words would call them forth.

The sun was halfway submerged into the sea when one of them made the suggestion to start the short trek to the village. Rikku tried to pretend that they hadn't struck a soft spot, scolding them; "Hey, the sun's not even all the way down yet!"

"I'd rather get home before it's completely dark," Lulu said.

"Well, I'm gonna stay. You didn't watch a sunset unless you watched the whole thing."

The sand-churning footsteps drifted away, and Rikku leaned back on her elbows to relax for the rest of the descent. Above her, the air began to glimmer.

* * *

fAuron turned to make his way back to where the void waited, but he jerked to a halt. An image bloomed in front of him in the air, seen through a portal the shape of an oval large enough for two men to step through; he stared into a moving portrait of sunset on a horizon of water from the beach.

Mazrim grinned. "Fay always comes through. If you can't trust anyone else, you can certainly trust her, Auron."

He abruptly realized that besides Mazrim, Ender, and himself, they were alone. The three that had come with Mazrim were gone.

"They're off to safety, thanks to Fay," he said, answering Auron's unspoken question. "And you should be, too. Unfortunately, it takes a lot more power to move someone from the Farplane to the living world than it does to take someone from one end of the Farplane to the other—despite the two worlds being as close as they are at the moment—so the portal will need some time to cool off after you go through.

"Don't worry, though," he added, "I'll be right behind you. Ender and I need to have a serious _talk_, understand?"

"I'm not—"

But Auron couldn't turn around or get another word out in time to stop the hand that roughly pushed him into the oval—into the other world.

He tumbled into salty air and sunset light headfirst, with barely enough time to extend his arms to keep his neck from snapping on the ground. He caught himself with his hands, submerging them in the sand, then pushed off and sprung back, becoming light as a feather as pyreflies streamed out of him and took his weight with them. He turned and landed gracefully feet first a few yards away and immediately called his spirits back.

His eyes snapped to the portal. He could see Mazrim smiling broadly at him, his image becoming dimmer as the gate faded.

"Who are you?" Auron murmured. His grin grew wider just as the portal winked out of existence.

For a moment he stood staring into the sunset at the spot where it had been. He trembled with adrenaline as he turned, but became absolutely still when his eyes landed on two spiral jewels—emeralds, of the brightest and most beautiful kind ever to sit in a socket.

She looked at him with her eyes wider than he'd ever seen them, jaw dropped, hands clasped to her breast, knees together, feet apart, shaking like he was no longer.

Hours passed. Days.

"Auron," she whimpered, "…is it really you?"

He felt like he'd been stripped naked.

"…Say something, please! I wanna know that I'm not just imagining it! Auron?"

He'd fallen for it again.

"I knew it," he snarled. "I knew it. I know all your tricks! You won't deceive me again, Ender!"

He commanded his body to burst into pyreflies and flee, but something of steel will held him still. No matter how he struggled, he was helpless, trapped by an invisible force. Helpless, just as he always was.

A voice echoed inside his head. _**Auron, this is **_**not**_** the time to run. That will come later. Now, you rest.**_

One hand flew to his forehead, and a spasm of dizziness assaulted him just before he started falling. Hands on his chest, trying to keep him from plummeting to the sand—_her_ voice, crying names—

"Yuna! Wakka! Guys, come back! _Hurry_!"

…then darkness.

* * *

School starts up again tomorrow, so gahhghghdmfsdfkad.

I would appreciate your reviews more than you even know. Thanks for reading!

-Ari


	3. Chapter 2: Return

Okay, so. Super short chapter for a couple of reasons: I just got my mojo back AGAIN again, and I had previously wanted to end chapter 1 here. So think of this as an update AND a bridge over a part that for some reason, I found very difficult to write.

Enjoy the briefness (yay, briefness)!

* * *

Seas—gentle and rumbling seas, caught up in the constant movement of life, the winds and their own currents, the ebb and flow of the tide. Rolling, receding, floating. So easy to lean back and let the sea take him where it would. So easy, even in a dream…

_The only thing slower than a sloth is a sloth that's slower_, it is said. Auron woke so slowly that he offered competition to that particular saying. His body ached, but soft things surrounded him, and he distantly noticed that there was a pillow under his head, and a sheet over his body, and a stuffed mattress under him.

The room was gloomy, crafted from light stone, and lit well enough by morning rays through the window nearby. Auron couldn't lift his head to look around, but he barely managed to reason out that there were other people present when he made a sound while trying, and someone stood up. He heard their footsteps as if they were hundreds of paces away, but no more than a moment later a blurry figure appeared to be leaning over him.

"S_ir Auron, can you hear me?"_ Yes, but he strained to as surely as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. His reply came as no more than a croak and rattle halfway down his throat.

"_Auron, was that a yes? Can you hear me?"_

He nodded just once. The effort made him dizzy.

"_He needs water. I suggest you find a straw, as well."_

"_Ah…um, yes."_

"…_Auron, are you okay?"_

By this time he had closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning so vividly. A few minutes later, someone returned with the water that the voice—a man's voice, rugged and permeated with solemn authority, and one Auron didn't recognize—had sent them for.

Someone tucked their arm under Auron's back and tried to help him sit up. Everything went black for a few seconds and his ears rang as his vision returned, as blurred as ever. He was so empty he wanted to vomit.

"_Drink or die,"_ curtly said the man's voice. Auron could dimly see a glass of water and accompanying straw hovering in front of his face. He drank obediently, but trying to suck the water through the straw was as difficult as trying to lift a solid stone block after days without food. After a moment they let him lean back again. Things were beginning to right themselves; he turned his head, and the figures of the people sitting on the other side of the room gradually came into focus.

His eyes might as well have popped right out of his head.

"Auron!" Rikku stumbled toward the bed from her seat to kneel beside it. Her eyes were glazed with worry, and she began to babble at him as she always did when stress had overwhelmed her. "Auron, it's me, Rikku. It's us. Yunie, and Tidus, and…you remember us, right? Are you okay? What happened to you? Where _were_ you?" Her eyes opened wider and wider as she went on. Typical Rikku. Textbook Rikku.

He lashed out violently with his arm and shoved her away with a cry that pulled the floodgates on his human fight-or-flight instincts. Before he could so much as twitch again, he found his forearms pinned down by someone stronger. A familiar face hovered over him.

"YOU, you," Auron growled twice, since his panic had multiplied the number of times the thought ran through his mind.

"Calm down," Mazrim snarled with twice the ferocity that Auron had managed. "Listen to me! You're not in one of Ender's illusions. This is reality, and Ender has you captive no longer. Do you understand?"

"Lies!" Auron struggled furiously against Mazrim's steel hold. "This is another trick!"

"Listen to me. I am an inconsistency. I'm almost sure that you've never seen me in any of Ender's fake worlds. Am I wrong?"

Auron managed to pull an arm free and land a solid punch across the side of Mazrim's face. But instead of staggering back and providing an opening for escape, he whipped his head back around and stared at Auron with brown, nearly golden eyes that flashed with irritation.

"I didn't want to have to do this," he said. Suddenly his hand covered Auron's face and a shockwave of energy plowed through him, and his arms and head fell limp. Another wave, and darkness followed.

* * *

He dreamt of a tall and grey fortress that he had explored many times before. He had never found anything to suggest a name for the place, or a function. Each room was empty save for a large carpet laid out in the middle of the floor that might have been pearly white once upon a time. An odd silence pressed on the atmosphere even as he walked and breathed. Here, an invisible shadow seemed to have one hand on his shoulder while it trailed behind him, and Auron couldn't stop looking back at where he had come.

Those little twitches of movement in the corner of the eye, those cold bursts where the air was thicker and icier were the things that made him nervous.

His boots resounded with the clank of metal to metal. He stopped.

Below him, Zanarkand glowed with prestige. Foaming, man-made rapids flowed in waterfalls between the gaps of tightly-packed cylindrical towers that were alight with energy. From atop a spire that jutted outward from one of the sides of these towers, Auron could see the thriving city from edge to edge.

Then someone else took control. Auron's soul fell back, pushed away by some outside force that took the wheel in his place, and then he was only a spectator. A voice resounded in the air around him.

"Tell me the first thing you remember after Sin's defeat."

Auron turned back toward the edge of the airship, away from his friends, and stretched his wings to each side. With a burst of power, he leapt into the air and soared on and on until he could no longer feel anything.

"Good. Do you remember anything after that?"

He felt sticky sap on his ungloved hand, and heard the crackling of those special glowing Farplane flowers being crushed under him, in his fists. He burned with ruined pride and unrelenting sadness. How he hated self-pity, but now he could not push it away…

"Keep going."

He trudged into one ruined world after another, holding the girl's tiny ash-colored hand in his. The sap on his fingers weakly glued them together. Zanarkand, in ruins, and he wanted to leave.

"Is there more?"

Mirrors surrounded him. His reflection stared at him a thousand different ways and he was unbearably dizzy. His arm…was black as night, burned, and he looked on with nearly golden eyes, and his shoulders were wider than he was used to.

"Hmm."

He was losing himself. He tried, but could barely lift his feet up to the next step and the next, and his hands weren't there anymore. He was crumbling. His being was crumbling. He stumbled into the Farplane's moon.

"…Keep going."

Intense pain, screams, life again, and he fled away from the man clothed in black with the name that spoke of conclusions. No one could help him or the lady made of water, or the man with no skin or the Unsent mutant. He chained him to the wall inside the largest cage.

"We'll start there," said the voice.

The dreaming stopped. Everything stopped.

* * *

Slowly, the blinding light that enveloped Mazrim's hand receded, and he drew himself away. Auron's face remained unmarked despite the power that had heated the room just moments before.

"W…what did you just do?" Yuna murmured, breaking the silence. Mazrim lifted his palm to stare at black markings that hadn't been there before, and he watched the designs fade away with an expression as readable as a closed book. "What…"

_What's going on? What happened to him? Why is he like this? ..._and so many more questions. Too many to even begin to ask. Rikku's heart ran a mile a minute. She wrapped a shivering hand around the base of her neck; her shoulder was sore where Auron had pushed her. She heard the strained utterances of Tidus and Lulu behind her, the beginnings of questions that cut off before they could be asked, and the confused sighs of shock.

"I didn't know he would be this bad," said Mazrim quietly, almost to himself. He put one of his large hands on Auron's forehead. "This was the only way."

"The only way to do what?" Yuna blurted. "What was that power, and what did you do to him?"

"What's wrong with him in the first place?" Tidus added. "Why was he all crazy like that? We thought he was dead." He received a few glances from the others. "Well, not dead. Gone, I mean. We thought he was…gone."

"He did too," Mazrim muttered. "Believe me."

Rikku swallowed silently and tightened her grip on her shoulder. "Is it really him?"

"I wish I could say otherwise." The large man stepped away from the bed with a pained look and put his back to the wall.

Rikku realized that she was crying after a few moments, when she finally sniffed once without prelude. Hot tears streamed down her face, and she was too stunned to stop them from flowing freely. She moved forward on her knees and stopped when she was beside the bed again, and without hesitation gently touched his arm. His skin was hard and dry. It always had been.

"Who's Ender?" Rikku asked softly.

Mazrim took a breath to reply, and paused, considering his choice of words. "To answer the Lady Yuna's question: I forced him to forget everything that's happened to him in the past two years. The feelings of fear and trauma will linger, I think, and he will eventually remember everything no matter what I do, but it was necessary right now for him to forget."

The group said nothing, and Mazrim went on. "For two years," he said slowly, "Auron has…endured trials and terrors that no man should ever have to even think of. He's been tortured with false situations and nightmarish tasks, and despite his cling to logic, all of it has driven him to the brink of insanity." He shoved one hand into his coat pocket and made as if to feel around and check that something was there, then frowned as if it wasn't. "The person who did this to him is called Ender."

Their mouths hung open in hopeless confusion and horror. Rikku wet her lips, salty from her own tears, and tried to comprehend even _some_ of what Mazrim had told them.

"Wha…" Tidus gripped his blonde hair, stumbling roughly back into his seat. "Ah…"

"Why?" Yuna murmured. One fair hand covered her mouth. "How, even? And who would…?" Lulu tipped her head in agreement. Rikku only wiped her face on the sheets of Auron's bed. "Who _are_ you? How do you know all this?"

"I think," he finally replied, "it would be better if we wait until Auron is up and about to have the rest of this conversation. I'm not fond of redundancy."

Mazrim abruptly left the room before anyone could raise protest, mumbling to himself.

"I don't believe this," Yuna said a moment after he was gone. "Sir Auron is still…and that man, he…" She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. "What is happening?"

"I don't have a clue," Tidus said, "but we're gonna find out. This is—just, really bizarre. But, hey, Auron's back! That's a good thing, right?" Rikku felt that last part being directed at her especially.

Lulu shook her head. "I have a feeling that Auron will not be the same man we knew," she said. "If such terrible things truly happened to him, memory or no memory, he will still feel the remnants. He will need us." Her grip on the chair's armrest tightened. "Things are awry in the world."

"I can feel it too," Yuna whispered. "Something's not right. Something's felt _off_ for a while now." Her eyes landed on Auron again when Lulu got to her feet and announced that she was off to update Wakka. "I hope he wakes up soon. Maybe then we'll have answers."

Rikku let her head fall forward to rest on Auron's arm. His skin was cool compared to her flushed face and hands. Outside, a breeze sighed and meandered over the old outcroppings of Besaid's temple.

* * *

So, I promise I'll get on this. For reals. The review button helps me, so you should click it 'n stuff.

-Ari


	4. Chapter 3: Prelude

Yeah, so... sorry it's been so long. I can't really say much else, other than assure you, the reader, that I really am sorry for not updating in so long. I think I'm actually getting back on track, though.

Thanks for waiting. I appreciate you.

* * *

She moved, stretching her arm across his wide chest until her fingers brushed the base of his neck. She lay to his right, in the curl of his arm, with her head resting on his shoulder; above them extended a canyon of clouds and mist, colored warmly as though lit by the rising sun. The same below them. They fell together, but slowly, as if being lowered by some invisible floating platform.

Her eyes, green and vivid, their spirals running inward, glowed as she looked at him and smiled sweetly. She had such a sweet, sweet smile. It would have stopped a war.

_I missed you…we all did. But me especially, because, well…you know. I mean, I guess you don't know. This is sort of embarrassing._

He shifted and began to stroke her hair with his free hand.

_Um…I'll help you if you need me. I promise. If you need me, I'll be here for you, no matter what. I swear. Because no matter what happened to you, you'll always be Auron, and I'll always…_

Something she did let her closer to him—women had a way of doing that, of suddenly surrendering their entire body at once—and he tipped his head until their foreheads were touching. Then in a moment, the sensual swivel of the face, the parting lips…

Auron became aware of his hand tightening on a fistful of sheets, and in an instant the dream slipped away before he could have even thought to capture some of it in a memory. He sighed regretfully, scowling a little, and opened his eyes; it was mid-morning judging by the soft light that filtered through the window on the wall nearby. The room was rather small, with walls of muted stone and a handcrafted wooden table across from his bed. Around it sat a few chairs of the same style in happenstance positions, as if people had been sitting in them not long before.

Rikku was sitting in one of them. Her eyes were closed, face gracefully expressionless, but she wasn't asleep; she wouldn't have her elbow anchored on the table and her head leaning against her upturned palm if she was. The Al Bhed must have heard him shift, because those beautiful eyes popped open and she looked at him and sat up straight. He regretted moving; he would have liked to look at her just a little longer. Heat flushed his face before she even reached him—whether it was embarrassment or something else he couldn't tell.

"Auron," she whispered. "Auron. Are you okay? How do you feel?"

He could only stare at her in awe. She was more beautiful than he remembered. No—she had _changed_. Her figure was more established, more feminine; where once she had been girlish, she now was womanly and graceful. Even her skin seemed to glow. She had blossomed in shape and color. Time had passed. _How long? I can't remember anything after…_

Everything started to come back. Sin…no, Sin's end, and his end. _My end. I saved Tidus._ But at the cost of his own existence. He gave Rikku his sunglasses—he didn't know why, really—and left all of them…then Fay, and the Farplane…his mind began to run through the sequence of events from the Farplane and onward. But every time he approached Ender, the line between what he could clearly remember and what remained a mystery blurred dramatically. And now here he was.

"C'mon, say something…" Rikku's eyes were tense with pleading.

"I wouldn't know what," Auron said slowly. She seemed relieved. "I don't know what to say to you."

That threw her off guard somewhat; she gave him a confused stare, watching him while he sat up and put a hand over his forehead, trying to smooth away a headache. "What happened to me?" he murmured. Rikku shook her head. "How long has it been since…?"

"Two years." There was an icy layer over the reply that suggested it had felt longer.

"How did I get back here?"

Rikku shook her head again, this time with her eyes shut. She couldn't seem to look at him directly when she opened them again. "I don't know. There's this guy who came with you, and he said that he was gonna tell everyone what happened when you finally woke up, but for the past four days you've been bleeding from these, these black _symbols_ on your skin, and you were screaming and screaming and we had to get Tidus and Wakka to hold you down so Yuna could…"

She stopped trying to talk over her own sobs and began to scrub at the tears that ran down her face. Auron's throat had gone dry; he felt like someone had given him a bottle of acid to drink, and he had gulped it down in a single second. He found her arm and touched it comfortingly, though he could still feel the blood draining from his face. "Rikku…"

Suddenly she flung her arms around him and wept openly with her head bowed to hide her face. Guilt bloomed inside him like weeds in summer—why guilt, he couldn't quite say. Two years. He couldn't remember anything, but some residue left on his heart, like a stain, made him sure that he had…missed her. Unbearably. It was hard to admit even now.

In an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself, he shifted his expression back to cold neutrality and gently reminded her that there was no need for tears when calm could accomplish more. "You mentioned a man that came with me." Rikku looked up. Her face and eyes were red, as if this had not been the first time she'd cried recently. "Who is he?"

The Al Bhed sniffed a couple of times and scrubbed at her eyes again before answering bashfully. "He said his name was Mazrim. Other than that, he hasn't really told us anything else."

"That's impossible," Auron blurted, and immediately shook his head. He shouldn't have said that. He had no idea why the man's name being Mazrim was impossible, and wasn't getting ready to have a great revelation about it. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the name was _there_. He suddenly felt a little light-headed and breathless, as if he couldn't get a comfortable amount of air to his lungs. Auron waved away his last statement, and let Rikku calm herself in silence. Signs of tears quickly faded from her after she cried; she was lucky in that regard compared to some. Whenever Elayne cried, the whites of her eyes stayed bright red for an hour or two more at best. It was easy to tell when she was upset…

Auron stopped himself. Who was Elayne? He struggled to remember—she was…that girl, the one that he had seen in one of his visions during the pilgrimage. She had called Auron "brother." _My sister?_ The sister and the family that Auron had forgotten. He felt the prelude of a headache brewing between his temples.

"I will go outside," Auron said slowly. He was uncertain if his quivering limbs would hold him up. Rikku looked at him with the same uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You've been…really sick." The pause was barely noticeable, but it was there. "I don't think Yuna wants you walking around after all that, you know?"

"I'll only get worse if I stay confined to a dusty room," he said bitterly, accepting the hand she offered to him as he climbed out of bed. He stumbled, and had to plant one hand on the wall to keep from toppling over.

"Hold on!" Rikku darted out of the room without further warning, and returned a few moments later with a sturdy walking staff in her hands. Auron didn't bother to ask her where she'd gotten it; there were plenty of old men and women attending Besaid's temple (Auron was certain, by the bright colors of his blankets, that he could only be in Besaid), and doubtless more than one of them needed something like that to help them hobble around.

The midmorning sun had already warmed the air to comfortably hot temperatures when the two stepped outside. Auron drew in the scents of wood and water from a sea breeze that brushed over the village, let it cleanse the pains from his head while he ignored most everything else. They reached the edge of the raised stone platform upon which the temple was constructed.

Passersby were glancing at him with odd expressions, Auron realized. They seemed afraid of him—or at least willing to take an extra few steps to avoid him. Rikku touched his arm lightly, and he turned to her. Understandably, she seemed concerned.

"Doing okay?" she asked patiently. A faint wind brushed by, bringing the piquant smell of salt and the humid forest.

"Fine," Auron replied. Despite the fair amount of activity in the village, a movement caught his eye and drew his attention to the group walking down the dirt path from the cliff that overlooked Besaid, and the woman who led them. She especially held his gaze. From this distance, he couldn't be sure, but…

Rikku followed his eyes to see what he was staring at, and let out an excited sigh. "Oh, there they are! HI YUNIIEEEE!" she cried with a wild wave of her arms, poised on the tips of her toes. When the sound reached them, Yuna and Lulu appeared to be amused in an identical fashion and Tidus leapt up and flailed about in fair imitation of the Al Bhed. "HAAAIIII WIIKKKUUU!"

"Shaddup!" she shouted, rounding on Auron. "Ugh, Tidus is so immature."

Another time, and he might have smiled. Mirth danced out of his reach. "How are they?" he asked. Rikku turned to him and gave him a confused glance that laid her thoughts out for him like a picturebook: _Uh, what do you mean? Look at 'em, they're right there. And right as rain._ Auron shook his head. "What's…"—_happened while I was gone?_ He couldn't phrase it that way. She would get that look in her eye again, perhaps become upset. _She _did _miss me._

The former guardian put a finger to his temples and rubbed at the distant pang of another headache. "What have I missed?"

"Well, Kimahri's off taking care of the Ronso that Seymour didn't…y'know. Scrap. He's the leader of the Ronso now. Uh, Tidus and Yuna are planning on getting married—but they haven't set a date yet. Wakka and Lulu got married last year."

She paused, and added, "As for me…" just as Auron said, "May Yevon bless their wedding day."

The both of them stopped dead.

"What'd you say?" Rikku murmured, her voice shrill with astonishment. Had he spoken again, a thousand words would have come pouring out in waterfalls of explanations—except that Auron had no explanations, and he was not a man of a thousand words.

"It… came out before I…" His head pounded. As it was, he felt as though the slightest wind would blow him over; just before he uttered that prayer, he felt his foot almost take a step back, his arms almost spread. He could only suspect what for. Perhaps he should put off speaking to his friends until he was feeling a bit more stable.

Auron didn't realize that he had voiced that last thought until Rikku nodded and said while taking his hand, "Okay. I'll tell Yunie you're not feeling good. Want me to come back inside, too?"

"Yes," he blurted. Her fingers were smooth enough to turn silk green with envy. "I want to know about you. What you've been doing since…Sin's defeat."

For whatever reason, spots of color bloomed on the girl's face—and he realized that his thumb was in the act of tracing the length of her index finger in a way that certainly violated the normal social customs that stood between two companions. He let go of her hand as if she'd almost burned him. _What am I doing?_ he thought angrily to himself. _Have I lost my mind?—No. There is something wrong with me. I do not have proper control of myself._

Suddenly everything Rikku had said to him through tears—about the illnesses he'd suffered and didn't remember—hit him with full force. He convulsed in a full-body shudder before he could help himself. Images of blood and sweat flashed through his mind, strikes of lightning that tore at him and darted out of sight; for a moment he went brilliantly blind, unable to fight or surrender to the pain that rent its way through his consciousness.

Eventually only a thread remained, and when his senses returned, Auron found himself on his knees at the steps of the temple, paces away from where he had been standing. Rikku knelt at his side, panic-stricken. He could distantly feel her clutching at his arm and shoulder—it might as well have been someone else's arm and shoulder through all the ringing and throbbing. It hurt too much to keep his eyes open. To move or hear.

He couldn't have said how, but soon he was back on a mattress and chilled blankets were draped over him, followed by an immediately soothing wet cloth on his forehead. He watched the work of it weakly, barely registering the how and why; once each sheet had sucked its share of surplus warmth from him, someone quickly replaced it with another, and so on—the towel just above his eyes dulled the pains in his head (or otherwise just deceived his body into believing that there were no pains). A considerable time passed—Auron's internal clock had shattered long ago, but he knew that much—during which his suffering dulled to something less than a human furnace. At about this time Auron tried to claw his way back toward strength; he wanted to thank them. He was obligated to thank his friends for taking care of him so, and he would owe them something great. Happy to pay back that debt. And Rikku… Rikku…

Easier to climb up a mountain slicked with butter. He slipped and tumbled, inevitably, straight into a deep sleep. Just before he went under, a thought echoed on the edge of his mind: _Let this end._

_Please, let this end._

* * *

Ignoring his slight fear, Mazrim slipped into Auron's room and was relieved to find himself alone—Auron excluded. He'd been hoping to avoid the pretty little thing that the boy seemed to have taken to wholeheartedly; if Rikku saw him, she would likely start bombarding him with questions until his head spun.

An amused smile formed when Mazrim realized that he had referred to Auron as a boy. A _boy! Hah!_ he thought to himself, moving to stand next to the low bed. Auron certainly was no _boy_ any longer. Mazrim swallowed his memories and swept his eyes over the Unsent—still Unsent, despite the things he'd endured. Terrible. Terrible. If he could reverse it all, he would have in a heartbeat. Rage boiled inside him at the thought of Ender's relentlessness, and chills at the length of time Auron endured it. Two very long years. Mazrim could not imagine.

_He will have his chance for revenge_, he assured himself. _We both will._

He sat himself on the wooden chair nearby with a resigned groan, throwing a glance out the window. Auron had remained unconscious and stone still after his midmorning fit, and it was well into the night now. In spite of himself, Mazrim was worried—however, he didn't mean to let himself drown in what-ifs. Auron would recover by the time they had to leave. In part, anyway. It was imperative that he at least recovered in part. Once he was safe in the memory, things would be a lot less stressful; if he didn't have enough strength by then, they would be out of options, and out of time.

Mazrim spent minutes in careful deliberation before he finally stood and walked over to the bed, extending a hand over it, over Auron's heart, hovering just a hair's breadth above his skin. Everything began to glow.

* * *

When Rikku went to bed that night she was absolutely exhausted from a day of worry. Ironically enough, when her head finally hit the pillow, every part of her seemed to awaken at once. And then she couldn't stop thinking about Auron. Not in bouts of worry anymore, either. In fact, she kept _blushing_, remembering how he'd held her that morning, and most of all that little stroke he'd done with his thumb while he held her hand, right before he…She'd almost forgotten about that bizarre prayer he said, too. And something that hadn't really quite hit her: _two_ russet eyes, looking at her, instead of just one. The scar still ran across his face, over his eyelid, but Rikku had always thought it was…well, it made him more handsome. He would still have remained rugged and _amazingly_ attractive without it, but it was like an added bonus, or something. A battle scar. Sometimes she'd had dreams of him—the tender kind that she woke up from with her face on fire—where she traced her finger along it, or kissed the sealed eye, much to his delight. For the next couple of nights, it was a recurring theme.

Auron kept himself secluded within the church for the next two days. She worried constantly, but she made an attempt to visit him at least twice every day, though he wouldn't see anyone besides Yuna (and only out of necessity). Maybe this morning would be different. _Oh, _please_ let today be different._ Rikku hurried into a fresh pair of comfortable shorts and a loose light blue shirt, making sure to brush her bedhead to death before she stepped outside. The air was still cool; nothing compared to the extremes of Bikanel that she was used to. A sea breeze carried over the village a sweet group of scents which earned a series of gratifying stretches, each more strenuous than the last, until the Al Bhed straightened and gave a very satisfied sigh. Good morning, world! Taking a colored band from her wrist, she set about the task of tying her hair.

The man himself was already up, which came as a surprise to her when she walked into his room and saw the scene lain out inside: Auron sat calmly on the edge of his bed, opposite Lulu and Yuna who had taken a couple of chairs. Everyone turned their heads when Rikku shuffled in, but the first thing she _really_ noticed was that Auron didn't look like he was about to keel over and die anymore. He looked warm, and strong.

"Good morning, Rikku," Yuna said, shifting in her seat. "Good news—Auron's feeling a lot better today."

"You don't sound happy about that," Auron said with reserve, and Yuna shook her head at him.

"No, no, I am. It's just that, I don't feel like I did much to help you."

"Maybe it was one of those things you just had to get over yourself," Rikku put in, "like a cold, y'know?" She doubted it _highly._ As if any regular cold could be as nasty and painful as that! "In any case, you _look_ like you feel better."

Auron leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees, folding his hands to rest his chin upon. He looked…like he had never been sick! Without the healed eye, it could have been two seconds or two years ago and Rikku wouldn't have seen any difference. Except, she sensed something else about him. When he glanced her way again, his eyes were a plate of steel for all the emotion they showed. Colder than ice, and the chill was in his voice when he spoke too. "I woke up with dizziness so severe that I couldn't sit up. But it's faded quickly. Perhaps whatever ailed me has passed."

"I hope so."

Auron stared at the floor next to his feet in the silence that followed. "You have your business to attend to, do you not? I wish to be alone." His curt tone felt like an accidental paper cut to Rikku. Lulu and Yuna didn't seem taken aback by it. In fact, they nodded in an oddly respectful manner and left without another word. Rikku stood by the doorway but did not follow them.

Auron turned his head to her. His eyes were tired and empty, like two puddles of mud that had been sitting on the ground for years without getting stepped on. Part of her wanted to embrace him and squeeze all the wrongs away, but the stronger part brushed the other aside and made her sit numbly in the chair Yuna had vacated after bringing it a little closer to the bed.

"Auron…"

The man stirred suddenly, as if just realizing where he was; eyes wide, he brushed a finger across his cheek and then looked at it…almost as if checking for blood. His breathing was quick. And he was staring at his hand like it really _was_ covered in blood. Without thought, Rikku reached out and pulled it halfway across the space between them. "Auron." _I'm right here._

Looking at her, then her hands covering his, he closed his eyes with a sense of weariness that made Rikku want to roll over and die on the spot. After a while, he shuddered into a haunting stillness, then swallowed a few times and looked at her once again with emptied eyes, absolute calm restored. "What?"

"Are you really feeling better?" His eyes narrowed slightly at the question.

"I am fine," he said. "I am capable of walking, and I no longer sleep for abnormally long stretches of time."

"That's not what I meant! You _stupid_—" She stood and threw his hand back upon his lap. "I don't care if you can do a jig and lift ten solid stone blocks! That's not what I'm asking you about. Something's _wrong_, Auron. I'm here. Talk to me!"

The fool man's expression didn't change a hair despite her outburst, which made her blush at herself for it. "I—I mean…you haven't talked to any of us at all. We're here for you, Auron. All of us. I'm here for you. I don't know what happened to you, but I'm still here. Please talk to me."

Nothing. There was _nothing_ in his expression. She didn't know whether to cry or scream or kick something. Her own heart was shriveling up at the sight. Auron's lips parted, like he was about to speak, then he paused and seemed to reconsider. Suddenly he turned his head away as if in shame.

"I cannot," he said slowly, "I cannot explain. I can feel that there is something…drastically different about me, but I do not know what it is."

"Mazrim took away your memories," Rikku interrupted, hoping to shed some light on his confusion. Auron just looked up at her sorrowfully and said "I know. This is not the first time my mind has been toyed with in such ways. My childhood—my origins—are all a mystery to me, in the same way that the recent past is shrouded in darkness. But that's not the difference I'm feeling. I…" He abruptly shot her an undeserved glare of reproach. "I should not be confiding in you."

Like any frustrated young woman, Rikku responded by spreading her arms in a way that practically shouted _What the hell?_ but Auron ignored her, shaking his head. "No. Leave me. Please."

Perplexed and rather put off, Rikku saw no other choice than leaving besides staying there to bug him. But he really did want to be by himself; despite the emptiness of his eyes, she could see that in the tiniest flickers here and there. And despite knowing the reasons behind it, she couldn't help but feel hurt as she tore her gaze away from him and left.

* * *

_Don't resent me_, Auron thought at her before she vanished. He ached for sending her away, but right now he was lost, and…so many things. So many things rushing through his head and he couldn't keep track of a one. She was so beautiful now. What was happening to him? This madness, this…two wild animals inside him, and one wanted to destroy everything and let blood flow in rivers. He'd _sensed_ them. Just faintly. Lulu and Yuna, and _Rikku_—he'd sensed the life in them. He was _aware_ of them—of the living? That had to be it. It always coincided with people, with living things. Why this? Why at all? Was it some sort of skill he'd learned in those missing two years? It very well might have been—Auron shuddered, suddenly chilly from his own thoughts. He felt powerful. Muscle memory recalled astonishing feats that he couldn't quite picture in his mind, but he could have traced through every one of them; a sword in his right hand and nothing would be left breathing when he was done. His arms and legs remembered slaughters and chases. The bloodthirsty animal within wanted to relive it, no matter who was slain.

_This is Unsent anger_, Auron slowly realized. _I've regained the dead's resentment for the living, even though I'd already overcome it years ago. What would cause it to come back?_

He could deal with a furious voice raging in his head, if it came to that, but the loss of control was something he couldn't. Would not. What if he hurt someone? He was more dangerous than the average man, and the second beast inside him had taken one look at Rikku and wanted to gently pin her against the wall, and—

Auron drove a fist down onto his thigh so hard that his fingers cracked audibly. There would be a bruise on his leg later. _Someone help me._ He clutched his head in his hands. _Calm down. You must be calm._

He was beginning to panic. He'd never really panicked before, and certainly not for little reason. That, and the sense that something was utterly _wrong_, only helped him break into a cold sweat. Couldn't scream. Couldn't make a senseless commotion to help him feel better. Shaking uncontrollably, Auron wrapped himself in the dusty blankets the temple had lent to him and buried his face in the pancake-thin pillow. Curled into as tight a ball he could get, he tried to push away fear and confusion, and the new dreadful concepts that had begun to forming his mind, of darkness and pain and suspicion. The marrow of his bones turned to ice.

For a split second his head felt fuzzy, and then things were suddenly _different_;slowly the fear began to ooze out of him in little bits and pieces, floating away, and Auron descended into a pool of emptiness that slowed his thoughts and set them in order for him. Finally. A question slid along the outskirts of the pool, only where his subconscious could touch it and answer it.

"I want an explanation," he murmured. "I tire of cryptic and mysterious words…I want to know what's happened. What's happening—to me."

"You'll have your answers soon. I promise," said a voice just outside the void. "You must be patient."

"I have been patient for _far too long_," Auron growled, and nirvana dissipated. It left him dizzy and staring at Mazrim, who sat across the room from him in a wooden chair, and his expression, dimly lit by the candle on the table. He'd been unconscious for the whole day again.

"Mm," the man sighed, putting on an innocent pondering face. "I understand. You want a direction. You know what?" He suddenly got to his feet and started toward the door. "We've been playing the waiting game for these past few days, but I suppose it won't keep on for much longer. Go to the ruins near the beach. I suggest you bring your companions with you, in case Fay has finished preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

Mazrim stopped at the doorway and glanced at Auron wryly. "On a scale of one to ten, how mysterious and cryptic do you want my answer to be?"

Without thinking, without even sensing his own movement, Auron threw something at the rugged man with all the strength he had. It crashed into the wall on the other side of the door and clattered to the floor, having missed because the target was gone as if it had never been. A piece of wood? Where had he gotten—yes. A carved stick of wood, torn directly from his bed's headboard. Auron blinked and looked down at his calloused hands.

_No more_, he thought to himself. _No more being led from place to place like a helpless child._

_I go my own way now._


End file.
